


Five Times Selina Kyle Said No To Harley Quinn, And The One Time She Said Yes

by pleasesir



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Catwoman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, First Time, Fluff, Happy Ending, Situations Of Mild Peril, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasesir/pseuds/pleasesir
Summary: Harley is beautiful, but she’s beautiful like a doll is beautiful, porcelain and perfect. Selina shouldn’t want to touch her. She does anyway.





	Five Times Selina Kyle Said No To Harley Quinn, And The One Time She Said Yes

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i was gone for so long, i was writing gen stuff for my other account and also busy working on this story! anything over a thousand words is hard for me, so i'm really proud of this one :) hope you guys enjoy!

The first time Selina Kyle meets Harley Quinn, they’re at Ace’s High, Gotham’s newest, most dangerous club. Harley is perched on Joker’s lap; they’re watching Selina with matching, glittering shark eyes. “And _what_ ,” Joker drawls, sliding his hand over the curve of Harley’s hip, to where a gold chain links over her stomach, “Can I do for _you?_ ” 

Selina, freshly off the streets, starting to find her way around the underworld, crosses her legs. She’s met men like Joker before. Evil, psychopathic, puffed up with power and cruelty. The tattoos and green hair are just add-ons. There are people like him all over the world. She doesn’t like having to come to him, to his lair, but she needs the blueprints to the Lazlo Museum and Joker is reportedly the only person around who has them. 

“I need the blueprints for the Lazlo.” Selina forces herself to meet his eyes, even though she feels like she’s falling into them, stomach churning. When he grins, teeth gleaming, she turns her gaze to Harley. Another gangster’s moll, she’d thought, but this one is…different. She grins wide at Selina, popping her gum, and there’s something intelligent behind the emptiness in her eyes. A doctor, Selina remembers. Doctor Harleen Quinzel. Look how far she’s fallen.

She twirls a pigtail between her fingers, whispers something in Joker’s ear. His smile widens, gaze dipping to Selina’s collarbones and lower, to the deep V of her cleavage. She resists the urge to zip her suit up, shivers going down her spine. If he touches her, he’s losing his fingers, King of Gotham or not. Batman probably wouldn’t even arrest her for it.

Harley peels herself off him, kisses his cheek, and sashays away to dance. Selina’s eyes follow the sway of her hips without meaning to as Joker leans forward, curling long fingers around the head of his cane. Behind him, Harley tosses her head back, lost in the music, jerking. Her shirt rides up high, exposing the underside of one breast, a full curve. She laughs, tugs her shirt down a little, catches Selina’s eyes and holds them. Winks. Selina licks her lips as Joker chuckles. “Do you like what you see?” 

Selina’s focus returns to him, to the ugly smile spreading over his face. Selina pictures the Lazlo’s solid gold statue of Bastet and reminds herself what she came here for. Joker doesn’t matter, Harley doesn’t matter. What matters is getting that statue back where it belongs; in her hands, then, after a few days of gloating, back to Egypt. “Excuse me?” She resists the urge to bare her teeth, but only just. Her more feral tendencies still lie just under the surface. Right now, she wants to dig her claws into Joker’s skin and rip him apart.

“Do you like my, ah, Harley-girl?” he asks, gesturing to where Harley spins on the dance floor, her white skirt flaring out around her. Her mouth is open and red as she sings along to the beat, eyes closed. Selina tells herself she doesn’t notice, doesn’t see the appeal. 

“She seems nice,” Selina says carefully. 

Joker’s eyes narrow, mouth contorting in a false pout. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?” On the dancefloor, Harley bends so far backward it looks like her spine should snap, throws herself forward in one fluid movement then rolls her hips, abs flexing. Joker’s collar catches every bit of light, gleaming, a constant reminder to _not touch_. Selina really, really doesn’t want to be a part of their crazy. 

“She’s beautiful,” Selina dismisses, trying to get back to business. “What do I have to give you for the Lazlo blueprints?” 

Ignoring her, Joker waves a hand, and Harley comes skipping over to them, radiant. She beams, settling herself on Joker’s lap again, smoothing his hair back. “Hiya, Puddin’!” Joker casually gropes her ass, watching Selina from over her shoulder. Every fiber of her being is screaming to get out of here, but cats have nine lives and Selina’s only used about two of hers. 

“Do you want her?” Joker asks Selina, pushing Harley off his lap, motioning for her to cross over. She does, dropping herself next to Selina with an oof. Up close she smells like smoke and the heavy perfume she’s wearing, glitter across her neck and chest, the underlying reek of chemicals that must be the reason for her pallor. Just like Joker, Selina reminds herself. Harley’s just like Joker, a lost cause.

“Hi!” Harley greets, plastering herself up along Selina’s right side, grabbing her hand. The rough edges of her rings dig into Selina’s fingers, her grip too tight. This situation is beginning to spiral out of control, Selina’s free hand edging towards her whip. If she’s fast enough, she can probably smack Joker and run out before he reacts, consequences be damned. 

Harley’s an unknown factor though; she’s thin, but there’s real muscle there, and danger in the appraising glance she slides over Selina. Selina has no doubt she could do some damage, especially if her man is threatened. Harley’s sliding her hand down Selina’s thigh, towards the inner curve of it. Despite herself, Selina shifts in place, skin prickling hot all over. 

“She’s yours,” Joker says, and Selina’s honestly not sure which one of them he’s talking to as Harley bites her ear a little harder than necessary, giggling. Gently, Selina disengages herself, pushing Harley’s grabbing hands away and willing the flush from her face. 

“I’m, uh, not into girls,” Selina lies. Joker’s eyes narrow further, the mood souring, and they’re all tense for a moment before he laughs, motioning Harley back over to him. She pouts but goes easily, kneeling at his feet.

“Too, ha, too bad. Another time, perhaps.”

Would he really have let her fuck Harley in the middle of his nightclub? Selina pictures Harley’s slick dripping down over her wrist and feels her mouth go dry. “The blueprints?” she manages to spit out. 

“What’ll you give me?” Joker asks, all business now. His hand pets through Harley’s hair, rough, Harley wincing but trying to smile through it. Selina frowns. She names a figure anyway, Joker agrees, and the transaction is over, Selina leaving the nightclub with one last glance at both of them. Harley looks up at Joker, says something that makes him snarl, hand raising. She flinches away as the doors close behind Selina, music and sound cut off in an instant. Selina reminds herself not to care about Harley Quinn, no matter how wide and blue her eyes are, and continues down the street.  
+  
+  
+  
The last person Selina expects to see when she’s bleeding out is Harley Quinn. She blinks through the blood and sweat dripping in her eyes, tries to raise her hand to wipe it away before remembering she’s trapped under the heavy bookcase that tipped over when Selina was frantically scrabbling out the window, trying to escape from Blackout. Electricity sizzles around his hands as he raises them, summoning a ball of light that Selina is very sure will remove all her nine lives at once. This is what she gets for trying to be a hero, for trying to capture at least one of the escaped Arkham convicts. See if she ever helps Batman out again! 

Blackout turns when there’s a whistle, mouth opening, to be met with a giant hammer to the face. His nose breaks with an audible crunching noise, blood splattering as he collapses to the floor. Over him, victorious, stands Harley Quinn. “Hi, kitty!” she says, waving. Selina does a sort of hello wiggle that sends agony through her body, making her gasp.

“What’re…what’re you doing here?” she mumbles as Harley pulls the bookcase off her with apparent ease, tossing it aside. Until now, Selina had assumed she was human, and she wonders what other abilities that dip in an acid bath gave to Harley.

“I heard you were in trouble,” Harley says, which isn’t really an explanation, but she’s picking Selina up now so she won’t complain. 

“Ribs’re broken,” Selina slurs, tasting blood in her mouth. It dribbles onto Harley’s skin, staining the white red, dripping. Harley just smiles down at her.

“I got a friend who’ll help you out,” she promises, stepping out of the ruined apartment building where Selina was fighting Blackout and on to the street, walking around gaping passerby with apparent disinterest. “And I noticed the broken ribs. I’m a doctor.” 

“You’re not that kind of doctor,” Selina protests, weakly kicking one leg. She’s not really trying to escape, just feels like the effort should be made. 

“Relax,” Harley orders.

“But…I…why’re you here?” Selina asks again, too shaken up and concussed not to curl into Harley’s body. She didn’t even think they were friendly, hasn’t seen her since that night at the club. Harley and Joker are cutting a path of mayhem through Gotham City, distracting Batman from anyone else. It’s a good time to be a villain. 

“You needed help,” Harley says as she slides into a gleaming, purple sports car pulled up to the curb, after gently depositing Selina in the passenger seat, buckling her up. Selina presses her nose to expensive leather as the car starts with a rumble, peels off going sixty. She closes her eyes and takes shallow breaths. There’s a pile of guns at her feet, a knife stabbed into the upholstery next to her hip. 

Right now, all Selina wants is to be back at home with her cats, not speeding through Gotham with this crazy clown-girl and her car full of weapons. “S’not that simple,” she says, lolling her head to watch Harley drive. “Never is. What d’you want?”

Harley’s focused on the road ahead, beaming. Today she’s wearing a white dress with a slit up to the thigh, a shade darker than her skin, Selina’s blood splotched across the chest. She looks like an angel of death. Selina closes her eyes again, briefly. “I can’t want a friend?” Harley asks, pulling in front of an apartment building rather than the clinic that Selina would’ve expected. Then again, nothing Harley does is expected. 

“You want to be friends?” Selina asks, on the edge of consciousness. “Of course!” The funny thing is, Selina thinks she’s being honest. She doesn’t reply, too busy passing out with her cheek smushed against the chill window.  
*  
“And then, Junie, I picked him right up and I…” Harley cuts off with an excited gasp as Selina blinks awake, tasting sleep and blood in the back of her mouth. “Kitty! You’re awake!” Selina rolls over, groaning, feeling nothing more than a twinge from her ribs, like they’re weeks healed. She’s lying on a couch, the springs digging into her spine, smelling of incense and herbs.

“Where are we?” she asks as Harley’s face fills her vision, an excited grin on her face. The very edges of her irises are a bright, toxic green, a ring that flares as her pupils blow. 

“A friend’s,” Harley reassures, stroking Selina’s short curls away from her face. It’s too friendly a gesture for Selina to bat her hand away, as her vision focuses and she notices the other woman in the room, in sweats and a green sweater, rubbing at her eyes. “This is Junie,” Harley says, gesturing. “She healed you.” 

The woman seems unassuming, pretty with large eyes that look exhausted, but Selina has learned not to judge by appearances. Selina nods her head, receiving a tired smile in return. “Hey,” June says, curling her fingers in the too-long sleeves of her sweatshirt, ducking her head so lank blonde hair falls over her face. She leans back into the armchair opposite Selina, yawning like even that exhausted her. “Can you guys get out? Please?” 

Still a little confused but not willing to stay behind with someone she doesn’t know, Selina peels herself off the couch and follows Harley into a dank, flickering hallway, past walls so thin she can hear voices through them. They stand in the rickety elevator in silence, Harley humming to herself. She’s still wearing the white dress splattered with Selina’s blood, so too much time can’t have gone by, right? 

“So…” Selina says as they step into a dark, foggy Gotham street where the purple sports car from before waits, untouched. People watch them from behind drawn curtains, suspicious, calling their children inside. Looking at Harley, Selina can’t blame them. 

“Yeah?” Harley asks, perching on the hood of her car, legs swinging. Selina tries not to think about how she can see directly down Harley’s shirt and fails. “You wanna come home with me?” 

Selina does a double take, but there’s no mistaking the look Harley’s giving her, running her tongue over red lips. She winks. Selina remembers the club, Harley draped over her lap, covered in glitter. It shouldn’t make heat unfurl in her belly, and it definitely shouldn’t have her considering the offer. 

After a too long pause Selina shakes her head. “I’ll walk, but thank you.” Harley grins at her, waving as Selina continues down the dark street, til she turns a corner and hears the roar of an engine starting. Shaking her head, still confused, Selina Kyle makes her way home.  
+  
+  
+  
“Jesus Christ, Harley, would you get in there?” Selina mutters, pushing at Harley’s ass with both hands. She’s half in a window, legs kicking hard enough that Selina has to duck out of the way or risk getting spiked by a heel. Selina gets an eyeful of red and blue ass, shoves Harley a little harder to distract herself from it.

“Ouch!” Harley yelps as she tumbles inside. She’s more flexible then Selina, but not nearly as stealthy. Selina hefts herself over the window frame and follows, pulling Harley’s ridiculous hammer in with her as an afterthought. On her ass and elbows, Harley pouts up at her, blowing a strand of hair off her face. “You’re _pushy_ ,” she complains, taking the hand Selina offers and pulling herself to her feet. Selina’s always been small, barely cracking 5’2, and Harley towers over her, throwing a heavy arm round her shoulders to pull Selina close to her body. “Thanks for the help back there, though.”

Selina can’t believe she let Harley talk her into working together on a job, no matter how close they’ve been getting lately. Getting their nails done together is _not_ the same thing as breaking into the home of a known gangster to steal his wife’s extensive jewelry collection. It’s just not. 

“Uh huh,” Selina answers, peeking around corners. Anton Soklov, the man who owns this house, is supposed to be on vacation, but you can never be too careful. At the last party Selina attended, he drooled over her cleavage while his wife made backhanded comments about Selina’s ‘unusual choice of attire.’ Joke’s on her, the dress was Valentino and now Selina’s robbing her house.

Harley’s surprisingly quiet behind her, face uncharacteristically serious as she follows behind Selina. The house is decadent, in an ugly way. Too much gold and velvet. Harley sneezes loudly, rubbing her nose. Selina resists the urge to wince. 

Everything seems clear, which is of course when they turn a corner and come face to face with Anton Soklov, in his pajama pants with a gun tucked in his waistband. He’s unexpectedly fit for a man in his fifties, Selina thinks in some distant corner of her mind. His hand goes for the gun. “What are you doing here?” 

“Dang, guess the vacation’s over,” Harley quips as she grabs her hammer. 

Five minutes and one murder later, they’re in the house’s security room, Selina examining Harley while her attention is elsewhere. Harley is beautiful, but she’s beautiful like a doll is beautiful, porcelain and perfect. Selina shouldn’t want to touch her. She does anyway. 

“And then I said to him, ya know, I’m not that kind of girl anymore,” Harley says, popping her gum. “Like, I don’t kill people now.” Selina looks pointedly down at the body of Anton Soklov, gangster, who has a suspiciously hammer shaped dent in his head. “Okay, I don’t kill _nice_ people,” Harley explains, crossing her long legs. Her shorts ride high, enough for Selina to see the smooth curve of inner thigh and hip. She licks her lips. 

“Uh huh.”

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Harley asks, gesturing impatiently at the security system Selina is supposed to be breaking into. “Cause you’re great an’ all, but I got stuff to do.”

Selina has a sudden, vivid image of her digging her fingers into Harley’s blond hair and bending her over the desk she’s currently sitting on, burying her face between Harley’s legs and licking deep. See how much she can mouth off then. Selina’s never known how to keep her hands off what she wants. She aches to dig her nails in deep, leave red scratches in white skin.

Harley’s wide blue eyes blink back at her, deceptively innocent as Selina leans in close. She smells strongly of chemicals, a screaming DON’T TOUCH that Selina ignores, although Harley is like every poisonous creature; beautiful and colorful to lure you in. 

“Harley.”

Harley snaps her teeth in Selina’s face, grinning feral. “Why’re you gettin’ so close, kitty? Something you want?” She spreads her legs, slow, letting Selina see the diamonds inked on the inside of her thigh. Selina sways forward, between them, laying her hands flat on the table at either side of Harley’s hips, and feels Harley’s ankles cross behind her. 

“Harley, the mission…” God, now she knows how Bruce feels, caught hypnotized by someone who leaves her mouth dry, her sex throbbing. It almost hurts, the ache deep inside, as Harley toys with the zipper holding her top closed, tugging it down a few inches to reveal skin, Selina’s breasts spilling out into her hands. Harley’s eyes light up like Christmas. 

“Mr. J doesn’t mind sharing,” she murmurs, and that’s when Selina gathers enough presence of mind to step back, zip herself up to her throat. She still feels bare, as Harley tilts her head with an empty smile. She has an image of Joker’s white hands on Harley’s white hips and it’s making her feel sick. 

“We have work to do,” she reminds them both, and after a moment Harley shrugs, hopping off the desk to join Selina at the security console. 

“Your loss,” she says right next to Selina’s ear, her blood red mouth curving into a smile as Selina taps away at the controls. Very carefully, Selina does not shiver.

Selina’s brown hand looks nice in Harley’s white one as she pulls Selina through Soklov’s house, towards the main bedroom. “D’you think there’ll be lots of treasure?” she asks Selina, who shrugs. Blood drips from Harley’s hammer in splotches, leaving a telling trail on the white carpet. Whatever. With all luck, they’ll be richer and gone before anyone even realizes Soklov is dead. 

Harley releases Selina’s hand and cartwheels through the door of the main bedroom, bouncing to her feet with a grin and a shimmy. “Grab the biggest gems first,” Selina orders, already heading for the glittering diamond earrings left out on a dresser; they fit into her ears like they were made for her and her only. There’s nothing better, Selina thinks, than the tangible weight of riches. 

“How do I look?” Harley asks behind her. Selina turns to find her dripping with jewels, rubies against her white throat, amethyst in her ears, diamond rings glittering on her fingers and a heavy gold band around her bicep. There’s a huge emerald brooch pinned at her shoulder, dragging the fabric down. It’s a mishmash of colors and Selina loves it. 

“You look beautiful,” she says honestly, staggering back when Harley embraces her, tumbling them both back onto the plush bed. Harley’s face is close to hers, beaming, their legs curling together. The jewels are uncomfortable, digging in everywhere, but Selina doesn’t mind resting for a moment. She plucks a diamond and sapphire butterfly clip off the bedside table and fits it in Harley’s hair, stroking once. Lying down for just a moment won’t hurt anyone.  
+  
+  
+  
“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you and I’ll _eat your heart out_ ,” Harley promises with a smile, clawing at Selina’s ankle. Her nails scratch ineffectually against armored leather, although Selina can feel the strength in her hands, knows she won’t be able to hold her for much longer. 

“This isn’t you, Harley!” she tries, but all she gets in return is a cackle, able to see the red, wet inside of Harley’s mouth. Her lip is bleeding, and her temple, staining her skin. Selina presses her foot down harder on Harley’s chest, knowing she can take the weight, knowing she has to keep Harley down. Whatever the hell Mad Hatter did to her, it’s not wearing off. He’s been escalating, going after any blonde woman now, apparently brave or foolish enough not to worry about what Harley will do to him once she recovers. Selina, personally, is going to scratch his eyes out.

“What the hell do you know about me?” Harley hisses, managing to force Selina’s foot up and off her, sending her tumbling to the ground with a grunt. She tries getting to her feet, scrambling away, but Harley leaps and tackles her, covering her whole body.

Up close, Harley is overwarm, breathing hard, her hands tight holding Selina’s wrists above her head. There’s something wilder than usual in her eyes, an evil that Selina has only seen in Joker. No matter what, Harley has always had something sweet about her, puppyish and eager to please. That’s gone now. 

Selina tries kicking, gets Harley’s thigh between her legs, can’t get her hands free to scratch. She yowls, snapping her teeth in Harley’s face and barely missing her nose. “Let me go!” Harley just laughs, lets go of one hand to put her own on Selina’s throat, holding her down. Selina hates how it makes her shiver, hates that Harley is always distracting. “I know you’re my friend,” she gasps out, hoping this isn’t the end; going out in the middle of a shitty warehouse where she rescued Harley and a gaggle of other blonde women, all of them gone now. 

They fled, like Selina should’ve done as soon as she saw Harley, hunched over like an animal and wearing rags, hair stringy in her face. Instead, she’d offered a hand. Look how well that’s gone for her. 

“No, you’re _not_ ,” Harley snarls, squeezing. The blood from her head wound drips steadily into Selina’s eyes, from the slice in her head that’s lumpier than it should be. Selina tries taking a breath and examines the cut more closely, suspicious. The Hatter’s known for his mind control chips, but Harley’s not wearing a hat. “You’re gonna bring me back to Joker, let him hurt me again,” Harley accuses, and Selina’s vision is going dark at the edges, Harley’s face getting fuzzy. 

“No,” she breathes out, whipping her hand up to dig her thumb into Harley’s head wound, hearing the disgusting squelch as her thumb slips in and under the skin, touching bone and something smaller, a lump towards Harley’s temple. Blood gushes onto her face, in her hair, but Selina is no stranger to blood. Harley screams, jerking away, but not so fast that Selina hasn’t removed the chip from under her skin, Harley going from maniac to confusion in seconds, blinking down at Selina. 

Her hand lets go, Selina finally able to take in a deep breath. Even now, Harley’s eyes dart to her heaving chest. “Selina? Kitty? What happened?” she asks, rubbing at her head and examining her blood-slicked fingers, licking them almost like an afterthought. “My head hurts.”

“Hatter…got you…” Selina pants, touching gingerly at her throat. She’ll bruise, but she’ll live. Harley’s eyes narrow, her hands already busy pulling her hair away from her face, tying it back in a messy bun. Her shirt rides up, and even breathless Selina can admire the perfect cut of her hips, the soft dip where Selina wants to put her hands. “Microchip was in your head.”

Harley doesn’t appear to care that she’s been injured, shrugging and wiping her face. “I’m gonna kill Hatter,” she swears, getting to her feet and offering Selina a hand up. Covered in blood and grime, her makeup smeared, clothing in rags, Harley still looks like a doll, albeit one who’s been through a battlefield. Selina…is honestly kind of digging it. 

Taking Harley’s hand and standing, Selina wobbles a bit, her heels not as easy to walk in as they usually are. This fight really took a lot out of her, Selina being made more for sneaking than for combat. Harley can fight hard when she wants to. “Give me a second,” she asks, leaning against Harley, a trust that she wouldn’t have been able to give just a few years ago, when Harley was still with Joker and Selina couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , like her. Things have changed now. 

“You look pretty covered in my blood,” Harley says out of the blue, tipping Selina’s chin up. There’s heat in her eyes, long lashes dipping low. Selina’s mouth goes dry. She’s been seduced by the best, but this mess of a clown is the only one who really gets to her, makes her clench up and _want_. Harley takes one of Selina’s hands in hers, curling her nail bitten fingers around Selina’s neatly trimmed ones. Her skin is warm, a little sticky with sweat. 

“I, uh…” Selina can’t find the words she wants to say, isn’t sure whether she wants to push Harley away or pull her in, kiss her right on her red, smirking mouth. Their faces are so close that Selina could do just that, feels Harley’s breath fan across her face, smells the acid of her skin. Her eyes flutter shut as Harley lifts Selina’s hand to her mouth instead, brushes a kiss across the inside of her wrist, feather light. Selina sighs, tips her head back, feels Harley nip at the skin, kiss again, against her palm. This gentleness isn’t something Selina would’ve expected, takes her off guard. She only opens her eyes when Hatter’s goons file in, with Hatter’s trademark shitty hats on their heads. “Let’s go,” she says, pulling her hand back, feeling Harley’s eyes on her back. 

“Can I have a kiss first?” Harley asks as they sprint away, goons in hot pursuit. 

“No,” Selina says over her shoulder, but when she looks back, Harley is still smiling.  
+  
+  
+  
“I’m _bored_ ,” Harley whines, pouting. Selina, doing her nails a dark, luscious purple, looks over with mild interest. Harley insisted on this slumber party, after a particularly grueling fight with Red Hood left him with scratches across his shoulders and Harley with a cracked rib. They’re bound up tight now, long bands around her chest and shoulders, keeping her from moving. Selina imagines there isn’t much worse for Harley than being unable to fidget. Her feet tap, toenails painted in alternating patterns of chipped red and black. 

“You’re the one who couldn’t block Hood’s kick,” Selina reminds her.

Whatever brand of combat boots Hood is wearing now, they’re _heavy_. Harley had curled in on herself with a choked noise, and even Hood looked worried. They weren’t fighting, not really. Not to kill. Hood was trying to stop Selina escaping with a priceless pair of Hellenic earrings. She’s wearing them right now, sitting heavy in her ears. Hood seemed to feel bad enough about Harley’s pained wheezing to look the other way as they escaped out a window. 

Harley pouts even harder, if that’s possible, stretching out a leg to prod Selina in the thigh. When Selina looks up Harley is grinning, watching her. She twirls the end of one blue pigtail, pursing her lips. The nightgown she’s wearing is a filmy, gorgeous Guia La Bruna, the dark red lace bringing out pink tones in Harley’s skin that Selina wouldn’t have imagined she possessed. Selina had it made especially for her, but she doesn’t mind sharing. Especially when it’s a little smaller on Harley, creamy skin bulging over the brassiere. The bandages hardly take away from the image, giving her a brutal edge that Selina’s finding hard to resist. She’s always liked a bit of rough.

Harley’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t argue. “Come here.” She’s patting her lap; Selina chooses instead to sit next to her with her legs folded underneath, waiting. Harley sighs, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

Selina looks around her empty room; she offered to have Harley over, knowing better than to stay at any place Harley considers livable. Abandoned carnivals, usually. Selina’s living room is neat enough, expensive clothes and jewelry in disarray, her cats sprawled out where they wish. Her favorite, Alfie the Maine Coon, pads his way over to her and settles in her lap. Harley looks on with jealousy.

“We’re the only people here,” Selina points out even as she reaches over Alfie to grab an empty wine bottle. She may be sensible but she’s no fool, not when Harley’s watching her with hot eyes and grinning. 

“That makes it more fun! I don’t like surprises.” Selina could submit that Harley said the opposite yesterday when they were doing 110 down the highway, stars glittering above them. She keeps her mouth shut, scratching Alfie’s ears. The bottle doesn’t even point at her the first time Harley spins it, instead settling on the TV. Harley blows a kiss to the screen, then winks at Selina. “Your turn.” Selina holds her breath as it goes round and round, finally, inevitably, settling on Harley. Selina shoves Alfie off her lap with a murmured apology, sure of what’s coming next. Alfie meows and, with a cat’s perfected air of disinterest, makes his way towards the kitchen. Food is probably more important than his owner’s romantic adventures. “C’mere,” Harley growls, dragging Selina towards her with the deceptive strength she possesses, half Poison Ivy’s borrowed toxin and half her own acid bath, running her hands down Selina’s back to palm at her ass. 

Her movements are sure, Harley confident in everything she does, sneaking her fingers under the band of Selina’s underwear. Selina kisses her once, twice, Harley’s lipstick sticky against her mouth, smearing between them. “Harl…Harley!” she gasps, Harley slipping her tongue into her mouth, licking against the back of her teeth, casually possessive. 

“Kinda expected you to taste like milk,” she mutters, bending her head to bite at Selina’s neck til the pain is almost too much, Selina scratching her nails along Harley’s shoulders. “Wonder if I can find it somewhere else?” as she unhooks Selina’s bra with one hand and takes a nipple into her mouth, biting again. Selina laughs even as she yowls and twists, oversensitive. It still feels good; she trails her fingers down the nape of Harley’s neck, letting herself be soft like she wants and kissing Harley’s forehead, her temple.

But then she shifts and Harley sucks in a breath, more pained than pleasured. Selina freezes. “Harley?” 

“I’m fine,” Harley says, high pitched. She’s always been a terrible liar. Selina clambers off her, not bothering to cover up. Harley’s eyes follow the bounce of her breasts, entranced. Selina can feel how wet she is, falling to her knees in front of Harley to distract herself from it.

“It’s your ribs, isn’t it?”

Harley glances down, biting her full bottom lip. “Maybe…” Perking up, she forces a smile, grasping for Selina’s hand. “I’m fine, though. Honest!” 

There are lines of tension around her eyes, her breathing carefully shallow. Selina shakes her head. “No. Not when you’re hurt.” 

Harley draws back like Selina has snapped at her, frowning. “Mr. J never cared,” she grumbles. 

“I’m not Mr. J.” And if Selina has any say in it, Harley will never be with Mr. J again. She withdraws into her bed, beckoning Harley behind her. Despite their little tiff, Harley follows, sinking into Egyptian cotton sheets with a sigh. Selina likes how she looks, sprawled out on her bed, all flushed cheeks and frustration. Cute. She settles next to Harley and pulls her into her body, carefully, molding herself to Harley’s back. “We can just cuddle tonight,” she whispers, undoing the ties in Harley’s pigtails, running her hands through soft blonde strands to loosen them. 

“I’m really fine,” Harley insists again, but her sentence trails off on a yawn as she snuggles close. Selina presses a kiss to the back of her neck, where her hairline ends, and falls asleep.  
+  
+  
+  
“Hey, kitten, why’d you want me over…What’s this?” Harley asks, stepping into Selina’s apartment with a smile. She’s wearing overalls, a white crop top underneath that is splattered with what Selina hopes is red paint, and pink boots. She looks like nothing that Selina would have ever expected to want, thinking instead she’d spend the rest of her life chasing after Bruce, to a man who would never commit.

Selina crosses her legs, adjusting her expensive Fox and Rose lingerie so it falls perfectly over her thighs. Nothing but the best for her best girl, she thinks to herself. “Hello, darling,” she purrs, leaning to drape herself over her couch, kicking one stilettoed heel up. Her Louboutins are black to match the gorgeous Cartier studs in her ears; Selina refuses to treat herself to anything but the finest, especially for a time like this. 

She checks the corners of the room to make sure the candles are still burning, and not melting onto her carpet. They’re sugar cookie scented, Harley’s favorite. Selina’s hair has been carefully pushed back in little curls, the baby hairs at her temples slicked down. She slides her recently shaved legs together and twitches her arm so the filmy fabric of her cover-up slides down, exposing a shoulder that’s only just had coconut oil rubbed into it so it shines. Licking her lips, Selina lets her head tilt to the side, exposing her neck, where a necklace they got from their first heist together glitters against her skin. Anton Soklov’s house. She’ll never forget it.

Overall, Selina imagines she makes for a very tempting picture. Which is why she’s confused when Harley breaks into riotous laughter, bending over with her hands on her knees. “ _Selina_ ,” she gasps eventually, wiping tears from her face. 

Selina sits up, frowning, her shoulders hunched as an unusual lack of confidence falls over her. Is she…not attractive enough? Does Harley not want her? Selina has literally never been refused, and she thought…Harley’s been pursuing her for years. They’ve been basically dating for a month now. They were thisclose to fucking a week ago, when Harley’s ribs were cracked. Did Selina say no too many times? Was it all a big joke after all, something Harley’s twisted little mind has used to mock her with? 

“Harley?” Selina asks after a moment, surprised by how small her voice is. Sensing it, Harley’s immediately cuddled up to her, strong thighs over Selina’s own, shushing her with butterfly-soft kisses to her mouth and nose. 

Despite herself Selina opens up to them, eyes closing, mouth opening to drink down the comfort noises Harley’s making. She slides her hands into the sides of Harley’s overalls, feeling warm skin. “Were you trying to seduce me, kitten?” she asks between kisses, stroking the nape of Selina’s neck. 

“Yes,” Selina admits, keeping her eyes closed in case there’s mockery in Harley’s face. 

There’s none in her voice when she speaks, just a thread of fond amusement that warms Selina from inside. “I’m sorry, kitty cat. It’s just, you’re so _dramatic_.”

“I am not!” Selina protests, opening her eyes to Harley’s wide grin.

“You took hours to set up candles and wore expensive lingerie, honey.” Selina very purposefully doesn’t bring up that she also has rose petals leading to her bedroom, and new sheets. Shrugging one shoulder, she looks down then up at Harley through her eyelashes, watching Harley’s blue eyes pop wide and heat up as she slides Selina’s other bra strap down her arm, Selina’s skin goosebumping at the touch. “So, uh, ya were trying to seduce me, right?” Harley asks, licking her lips. 

“Depends,” she whispers, an inch from Harley’s mouth, feeling her breath against her face, opening her legs a little so Harley’s spread wide, her back arching. 

“On what?” Harley asks back, sighing as Selina starts trailing fingers up and down her spine, under her clothes, barely touching. God, she aches, wants to know how Harley will feel all hot and wet inside, clutching around Selina’s fingers. 

“On if you want to be seduced,” Selina murmurs, sealing their lips together. 

“Kitten, you seduced me the first time we met,” Harley whispers, biting once at Selina’s lower lip.

Then she’s rolling off, tugging Selina up and towards the bedroom without hesitation. Selina takes an absent second to notice how nice Harley’s skin looks against the blood-red rose petals scattered throughout the hallway, crushed under their feet. 

“Get on the bed?” Selina asks as they stumble into her room, Harley immediately pressing her against the doorway, sliding her hands down the back of Selina’s panties to take handfuls of her ass. Fast and overwhelming, exactly what Selina would’ve expected, Harley licking a line up her cheek. Why is that hot? Selina doesn’t even know; she grabs her own handful of Harley’s ass anyway, trying to keep up. 

“You think you’re topping?” Harley asks, giggling, spinning Selina around and toppling her onto the bed, immediately crawling over her. Selina is tripped, caged between Harley’s thighs. Heaven. “That’s cute.” She slides the straps down on Selina’s lingerie; the piece is called Poison Ivy, which Selina had privately thought was hilarious.

“Harley,” Selina half laughs, as Harley buries her face between her breasts, all wet kisses and enthusiasm. The laughter stops when Harley finds the snaps at the bottom of Selina’s panties and undoes them, just _goes_ for it, her face now buried between Selina’s folds, licking wet and _deep_. It’s a little too much all at once, Selina grabbing at Harley’s hair, her other hand going to her shoulder and gouging. 

She’d feel guilty if Harley wasn’t looking up with a grin, her mouth slick. “That’s right, kitty, scratch me all you like. I ain’t gonna stop.”

“It…I…” Selina isn’t capable of saying anything as Harley goes back to work, as enthusiastic about this as she is about everything. Selina doesn’t realize how wet she is until Harley’s slipping two fingers inside, curling them forward as everything in Selina’s body goes hot and liquid, her thighs boxing around Harley’s ears. She’s wanted this for _years_ , wanted Harley on her and in her, and there’s something feral and victorious in her chest as she comes for the first time, surprised by how fast it is. 

Harley leans up to kiss her, mouth wet; Selina tastes herself as Harley licks into her mouth, moving her fingers again. Selina’s hips curl towards her, flexing back and forward, riding her hand. “You want me, kitten? You really want me?” Harley mutters almost to herself, letting Selina strip her overalls off and bite her neck, her cheek, her ear. She wants to devour, wants to see the purple-red imprint of her bite in Harley’s white skin. 

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Selina promises, dragging Harley in with her ankles hooked at the small of her back. Harley smiles, her pupils blown so wide there are just faint rings of blue edging black, rolls so Selina is on her lap, Harley sitting with her back against the headboard.

Like this, Selina can _feel_ herself dripping onto Harley’s wrist, swollen and clutching at her fingers. Harley fucks her like that, slow and patient, kissing at Selina’s neck and chest, occasionally biting just to hear her yelp and clench up. Her thumb rubs at Selina’s clit; by now, Selina can hear the wet squelch of how much she wants this, her thighs shaking, her head bent into Harley’s neck. It almost hurts, the burn of it, Selina making soft confused noises. 

“Relax, kitten, I got you,” Harley murmurs, and Selina groans against her shoulder, open and aching as Harley’s clever fingers reach deep.

“Harl…Harley…oh!”

Harley’s other hand is curled around her waist, holding on to the softness of Selina’s stomach, bending to take one of Selina’s breasts in her mouth for a second before lifting her head to whisper, “Wanted you so bad, kitten, I’m gonna be so far inside you can’t never leave me, I’m gonna ruin all that pretty,” as she slides a third finger in; there’s something of Joker in her face, something predatory. 

Selina yells as Harley’s free hand slides from her stomach to her throat, holding just tight enough that air is hard to come by. It’s that which makes Selina come for a second time, hitting hard from her spine and spreading warmth to her toes, melting bonelessly into Harley’s chest.

Harley’s hand slips free from her sex, sliding a wet trail up her spine and into her hair; they’ll shower together later, Selina is sure. “Give me a second,” Selina asks, mouthing at Harley’s collarbones. “Then I want you to sit on my face.” Underneath her, Harley grins.


End file.
